Like brain freeze, time freeze stuns. Everything slows down. Days, dates and relative time frames become blurred and grossly warped. I’m sure there’s some equation that could define exponential oddness where yesterday seems like forever ago, but I just can’t think that clearly.
Here are the last two weekends in quick and dirty numbers:
- 2: the number of pets we have
- 2: the number of pets who have been to the animal emergency
- 13: the dog’s age.
- 8: the number of days ago that the dog went in with a gastric hemorrhage.
- 1: the number of nights the dog stayed at the hospital.
- 4: the number of meds the dog has been on to help him recover.
- 1: the number of new meds were trying for his arthritis that have been implicated in the gastric hemorrhage.
The dog will be fine. He’s starting back in on his regular food and we will readjust his current arthritis medications without introducing any more new ones. He was not happy. He gave us a horrible scare. But he’s happier now than he has been in a while.
- 20: the age of the cat. Ish. She may be 19. Or 21.
- 1: the number of days ago that the cat went in to the hospital with acute renal failure.
- 1800: the level of her creatinine. (a by product in the blood, indicative of kidney function)
- 80: the upper limit of the normal range for a cat’s creatinine.
- 1: the number of months ago that her blood tests were normal.
The cat has had chronic kidney failure for years. But it hasn’t changed until recently. She’s had a few infections and a few strong antibiotics to help kick them. Her own arthritis has flared up. And, now, her kidneys have decided it’s too much. What we don’t know is if there are any other factors affecting her. And, worse still, we don’t know if the unknown is correctable and how her kidneys might fare in the aftermath.
Add all that up. It’s not good.
She comes back to the local clinic tomorrow morning. We have a consultation tomorrow afternoon.